When Everything Goes Black
by DhritiS
Summary: What happens when Vince Noir, rock n' roll star gets a serious injury? Will it ruin his life forever? Or is he just pretending?
1. Chapter 1

**Hi there. This is a disclaimer. I sadly do not own any of the Boosh or the characters of Vince Noir or Howard Moon. **

**Enjoy the story!**

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"Hi there," a customer came into the Nabootique, causing Howard TJ – You Better Believe It – Moon to wake up from his early afternoon jazzy trance.

"Yes, what would you l-" he was cut off as he saw the most beautiful woman in the world looking at him over the counter. She had long blonde hair, lovely brown eyes and she wore a tight black cat suit. After a couple of minutes of staring at her open-mouthed, Howard started to finish his sentence. "-like? What would you like? We have a large selection of thing here on offer, like this pencil case with a picture of an elbow patch on the front or this rare Bongo Brothers vinyl…."

"No, I am looking for a handsome young Jazz Maverick-

Howard nearly ran at her screaming, "That's me! That's me!" Never before had a beautiful woman sauntered into the Nabootique and asked for him. Times were changing for Howard Moon. Jazz Maverick. Poet. Cyclist. The famous spanner of genres.

"-who goes by the name of Vince Noir?" the woman continued, slightly frowning as he drooled onto the table.

Howard's dreams fell to the floor, shattered. Moments later, a thought occurred to him. Vince had never liked the haunting works of Kenny G and his soprano pipe like he, Howard Moon did. This was an outrage that needed to be dealt with as soon as Vince woke up. But that could wait.

Howard drew himself up to his fullest height and was about to inform the woman that no one existed under that title. Vince Noir, Jazz Maverick? There was no such thing. However, Howard Moon, Jazz Maverick had more of a ring to it anyway.

Just as he was about to mention this to the woman, who had by now lost all interest in him and was looking at Stationary Village with a bemused look on her face, a Northern looking gentleman dressed in a Tweed Utility Suit 4001 carrying a polished saxophone came downstairs from their shared apartment.

"Who the hell are you?" Howard yelled "Where the hell is Vince? What have you done to him?" Howard raised a walking stick he always had by the counter in case of rapists, murderers and student loans people. He was about to beat the living daylights out of the man who was now looking at Howard with a kind of a freaked out expression.

"Jesus Howard! What the hell's wrong with you? Have you overdosed on those pills of yours again?" Vince began to laugh when Howard raised the stick and brought it down on his head. Everything went black.

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So, please review if you like the story (so far)!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Another short chapter. Sorry. I promise the chapters will get longer! Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! Disclaimer: I do not (sadly) own the lovely characters of Vince Noir and Howard Moon and I also do not own Hagrid.**

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"Owwww…" Vince moaned, struggling to sit up. Howard stared at him in horror. "Bloody hell Harry, what the hell was that for? Are you out of your mind?"

"I don't know what happened! I don't know! I'm so sorry!" Howard began to apologise, trying to help his friend sit up.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Vince shouted, flinching out of his way.

"I'm only trying to hel- wait. That's MY Tweed Utility Suit 4001!"

"What? Don't shout at me Hagrid. My head 'urts. Get me some water."

"MY NAME IS NOT HAGRID OR HARRY! IT'S HOWARD. H-O-W-A-R-D. HOWARD." Howard had had enough of this idiot. What was he doing with his clothes and his saxophone?

"Harold? Where's my water?" Vince called out from the floor.

Howard stood up. "Get your own bloody water." He walked to the door, tied his shoelace, tripped up and left.

The blonde lady had left a long time ago. When Howard had hit Vince she had got her coat and ran off muttering about child slavery and calling the police.

Vince collapsed back onto the floor and was struggling to remain conscious. It was like his whole world had been flipped around. What was bright had suddenly turned to black. Everything that was once good had turned to bad. The sunshine kid was no more full of sunshine.

He wanted to kill everyone insight starting with the fat, jazzy creep with the sad, limp excuse of a moustache. But now he would have to wait.

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Thanks for reading! Please review if you liked it! Merry Christmas (again!) and a Happy New Year!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Another short chapter I'm afraid! I will do more though! I don't own the amazing Boosh though I wish I do! Merry Christmas! **

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Howard slowly walked away from the Nabootique, feeling more and more guilty with each step he took. He knew he shouldn't have hit Vince like that. But in his defence, he had been dressed like a complete stranger and twat. Still, he realised that he was and was about to turn back and apologise when Bob Fossil ran up to him.

"Hey Mr. Fossil!" he said, frowning over the weird costume that the fat man was wearing. "Nice costume,"

"Shut up Moon, don't ever talk to me. The costume is for Vincey's birthday!"

"Mr. Fossil, you do realise that Vince's birthday was last month don't you?"

"Shut up."

"Ok,"

Howard somehow felt that Fossil's pineapple suit would not be well received by the electro ponce but he encouraged Fossil to go to the Nabootique anyway. Vince could probably do with some cheering up. But right now, Howard felt that Vince needed some time away from him so he decided to spend the night at his good friend Lester Corncrake's house.

When he finally reached Lester's house, he rung the doorbell and waited for half an hour for Lester to open the front door.

"Yes, who is it?" Lester asked opening the door slightly to reveal the fact that he was pretty much naked. In the middle of February.

"It's me Lester. It's Howard Moon."

"I don't know any Harry Moons. Go away you pervert."

"No, its HOWARD Moon."

"Oh. Howard. How the hell are ya?"

"I'm fine thanks. Can I come in please?"

"Oh sure." Lester swung the door open and invited him in.

"Thanks. Lester, can I stay the night? I had a bit of an argument with Vince and I really need a place to stay."

"You lovebirds. When I have an argument with Boris, it's all over by the next day."

"Um. Lester. Boris is a fern that died years ago. Its not even here."

"Yes it is. Howard, do you really think that you could trick me like that? I know its April Fools day today but thanks to my training in Vietnam, I can sense when there is a plant near me,"

"That is utterly stupid Lester,"

"Then who is in my bed every night?"

"Your duvet."

"Oh."

"Can I stay the night?"

"No."

Howard sighed and turned around to try his luck at Leroy's house. Lester then screamed "RAPE!"

"What?" Howard turned around, confused. All he saw was a naked blind man clutching a rubber duck in one hand and a rape alarm in the other.

"Get out of my house pervert!" Lester yelled as he threw the rubber duck at a place he thought Howard was. It bounced off his TV and landed on the floor near his own foot.

"Lester, its still me, Howard."

"Oh. Sorry, you can never be too careful these days Howard. Ya never know when there's perverts or paedophiles around, waiting for a chance to get at me."

"Ok. Are you still sure that I can't stay for the night?"

"Oh, you sure can Howard! Who else will I talk to about Michael Jackson?"

"Okay, thanks Lester."

"Who's that?"

"It's still me." Howard said. He was not amused. Today had been a long day.

_The next day…_

Howard walked into the Nabootique feeling still pretty sorry for what he had done the night before. He took his keys out to open the shop and then realised that the shop was open. He then found Vince still lying on the floor. His blood ran cold. What if he had killed his best friend? He would never forgive himself.

Howard ran to a phone and dialled 999. After 10 minutes, Howard realised that the phone wasn't even plugged in. He went back to Vince, who was still on the floor. The little man was still not moving. Howard felt his neck for a pulse and found none. Dejected, he began to cry. He couldn't stop. He didn't want to stop.

His life was over. Or, Vince's was.

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Hope you enjoyed the story so far! Should Vince die or should he come back? Please review! Merry Christmas1


	4. Chapter 4

**Another semi short chapter. I do not own the Boosh even though I would like to. Merry Christmas!**

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Vince Noir woke up in a hospital. He was covered in needles from head to foot and was also on a life support machine. But how did he get there? All he remembered was that he had dressed up in a Tweed Utility Suit just to annoy the hell out of Howard. After that, he could not remember anything. Also, his head hurt. It didn't throb, but it really hurt, like someone hit his head with a sledgehammer. A doctor in bright blue scrubs came into the room.

"I see you're up then,"

"Yeah. What happened?"

"Oh, just a slight knock on the head and possible concussion but you'll pull through."

"And how long have I been in hospital for?"

"Well…, you have been knocked out for a while now…erm…"

"How long?"

"3 months."

"3 MONTHS! What! How have I been in here for three months?"

"Erm…well, oh, there's my beeper. Gotta go, bye!" The doctor raced out the door, ringing a bell which was hung next to the doorway.

"Hello! Wait…" Vince tried to sit up, confused. He couldn't understand what was going on. And he didn't like what he was wearing either. He tried to sit up, but as he moved, one of the machines sounded an alarm, causing one of the nurses nearby to grab a large syringe. The next thing he knew was darkness. Vince fell asleep not knowing what was going to happen next.

Ring, ring…

Howard Moon had fallen asleep next to the telephone. He quickly woke up when he heard it ringing and answered it.

"Hey Moon. What are you wearing to the funeral?"

"Who is this?"

"It's Bob Fossil, dingo breath. What are you wearing?"

"What funeral Mr. Fossil?"

"Your mother's funeral. Who do ya think? Vince's of course."

"What are you talking about Fossil?" Howard's voice grew anxious. Vince? He wasn't, well, dead was he?

"Vince Frogman's funeral of course. Who else?"

Howard breathed out a sigh of relief. And, who the hell was Vince Frogman? Howard hung up the phone and went to get some food. He hadn't eaten for ages and his stomach was grumbling. He closed the Nabootique and went to the nearest supermarket and grabbed any old sandwich that he could reach. Eating was really the last thing that was on his mind right now. He hadn't heard from the hospital for days and was planning to visit as soon as today's shift was over.

Ring, ring…

Howard eagerly picked up the phone, hoping that it was the hospital, with some news about Vince's condition.

"Hello?"

"Yes, hello? Is this the hospital?"

"Yes, hello. Is this Howard Tommy Jerry Moon?"

"Yes! How is Vince?"

"Yes, we are calling to bring bad news about Vince Noir,"

"What? What's wrong with him?"

"Yes-"

"Stop saying yes so much! It's so annoying! Why don't you tell me what happened?"

"Yes, well, Mr Noir has left-"

"What do you mean left-?"

"Yes, we mean he has gone. He is missing from the hospital. We are also wondering weather he is at home."

"What do you mean he has GONE?"

"We mean he has gone. Last week, he left when we went to get his morphine. The thing is that he disappeared. He left no trace and the machines didn't go off either! It's a total mystery to all of us here at Saint Andrews hospital."

"Well, have you called the police? Wait. WHAT DO YOU MEAN LAST WEEK?"

"Yes sir. He has been missing for a week. The hospital could not find your details anywhere so we had to wait till we could find them. We have found no reason to inform the police of this incident as it is not really that important. "

"I can't believe this." Howard sighed and put down the phone. In addition, Howard didn't know where Naboo or Bollo where. They had left to go to Cuba over 4 months ago. They had said that they were doing a "light Christmas shopping" but they had still not come back yet. Howard would be worried, but he knew what trouble those two got into. They probably were in jail somewhere for drug dealing or smuggling. Howard had called the Board of Shaman a couple of times but there was no answer there either. Only an answer message which was twenty minutes long and only consisted of Dennis going "What are you? What are you?" over and over again with the occasional sounds of Tony Harrison and Saboo vomiting in the background.

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Thanks for reading! Please review if you enjoyed the story so far!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Another supremely short chapter I'm afraid, sorry! The chapters will get longer! I don't own Daft Punk or their songs, or the Boosh or Donovan or Gary Numan! Please review!**

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Two years later…

"AROUND THE WORLD, AROUND THE WORLD, AROUND THE WORLD, AROUND THE WORLD-"

"Vince shut up,"

"No. AROUND THE WORLD, AROUND THE WORLD, AROUND THE WORLD- why did you do that for?"

"Cause that was the 50th TIME we listened to that song!"

Vince Noir pouted and switched the CD player back on.

"Vince. IF YOU PLAY THAT SONG ONCE MORE-"

"Cool your boots…let's listen to some…um… Gary Numan?"

"NO."

"Fine then… what about the…the Donovan?"

"The Donovan? There is only Donovan. There is no such thing as The Donovan."

"Whatever. What about DONOVAN then? Happy now?"

"Okay fine. It's an improvement from the endless electro you insist on playing."

"You remind me of someone I used to know…"

"Vince, I'm not the only person in the world who dislikes endless electro,"

"No, it's just…like I feel I knew them really well. Like I connected with them," Vince carried on, not noticing his girlfriend giving him a dirty look.

"Vince. I don't like hearing about your previous girlfriends…please spare me the details…" Colombia whacked Vince over the head with a spare copy of the Cheekbone he had left around their messy flat.

Vince abruptly woke up from his daydream and looked around blankly. "What was that for?" he asked her, sitting down on his stripy "up-to-date" couch. "And no, he wasn't a girlfriend. He was a man. I think."

"WHAT? So he was a boyfriend you casually didn't mention to me during the year we were going out?"

"No. I think he was just a friend I knew from childhood…I just can't remember..." Vince whispered, frustrated. Why couldn't he remember? He felt like he really knew this person. But who was he?

"You'll remember…maybe if you let me take you to a decent-"

"I WON'T GO TO ANOTHER TERRORIST!"

"It's called a therapist Vince," Columbia sighed, raising her eyes to the ceiling. "And I can't send you to him because you threw that lamp at him, remember?"

"Oh yeah..."

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Please review if you like the story so farrrrrrrrrr!**


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